by Jayci Lee
She gasped, happily scandalized, the same time Seth cringed.
“I didn’t mean…” Were his ears red? Yup, he was definitely blushing.
“I knew what you meant.” She did, but she’d been hoping he meant other, dirtier options.
“And you’ll get to sit up when room service comes,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Ooh, room service. But wait. “Did you already order?”
“Of course not. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. I wasn’t going to pick your food for you.”
“Oh, good.” She nodded in approval, and eagerly grabbed the menu he handed her. “I was starting to worry that you might be a caveman with all the carrying me around you’ve been doing.”
Tara reached for the phone on her nightstand when she made her decision. A chicken club with steak fries. “You know what you want, right?”
“I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger with a side of shoestring fries. Thanks.”
“Ooh, perfect.” Her mouth watered with all this talk of food and fries. “I’m getting steak fries. Can we share?”
“Hell, yeah.” He grinned happily at her.
“Yay,” she said, smiling back at him. Nothing was sexier than a man who shared his fries. “I’m going to order.”
“Go right ahead.” He walked away from her and rummaged around the plastic bag they’d brought back from the ER.
After she ordered, she leaned back on her pillow. “I hope they hurry. I’m starving.”
“I’ll make you some hot chocolate to hold you over once I’ve bandaged your ankle,” he said, coming to sit by her feet with a fresh roll of elastic bandages.
“I can do that.” She pushed herself up on her elbows. He’d been taking care of her all day.
“Lay back down, Tara. I want to do this, okay? I still feel like shit that you got hurt.”
“Okay. If it makes you feel better,” she said, holding back a smile.
If she were honest with herself, she quite enjoyed having him take care of her like this. It felt like a big warm hug, and made her heart ache a little. She liked it a lot. Hmm. This should worry her. Warm and fuzzy feelings had no part in the dating dare. Well, she was hurt, dammit. She deserved to be pampered a little, and she might as well enjoy it. Just for tonight.
“See. That wasn’t so hard.” He’d bandaged her ankle, not too loose, not too tight, and it felt worlds better.
“Thank you.” Her smile felt more than a little sappy.
“Now, I’ll get you that hot chocolate with whiskey, then I’m going to jump in the shower.”
She nodded happily, excited for her hot chocolate and imagining him wet and naked. Humming to himself, Seth set about making her drink, then placed it on her nightstand. He stacked her pillow behind her so she could sit up halfway.
“I won’t be long. And I’ll leave the door ajar in case you need me.” He handed her the mug and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Enjoy your drink.”
What she wanted to enjoy was a peek at him in the shower. Tara laughed quietly, shaking her head. She’d had no idea she was so lascivious. She must’ve been looking forward to their weekend getaway and first night together more than she’d thought. But thanks to her sprained ankle, she was relegated to bed rest.
When she was halfway done with her spiked cocoa, there was a knock at the door.
“Room service,” a voice said from the hallway.
“Hold on please,” she yelled, pushing herself up into a sitting position.
“Stay in bed. I got it.” The shower turned off, and Seth hurried out of the bathroom with a towel tied around his waist.
She might’ve swallowed her tongue. Wet, nearly naked Seth was something to behold. How were his abs so defined when he ate truckloads of food? And as she’d suspected, his pecs were sculpted masterpieces. Her mouth was suddenly dry, so she gulped down the rest of her hot chocolate as her eyes followed her date.
Once their dinner was rolled into the sitting area, Seth turned to her. “Give me a second to dry off and put some clothes on.”
Boo clothes. Tara managed not to pout. “Sure. Take your time.”
By the time Seth returned in a soft, worn T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, Tara’s stomach was growling impatiently. The smell of greasy fried food was enough to make her drool.
He maneuvered the rolling tray to rest flush against her side of the bed and brought himself a chair to sit across from her. When he removed the silver lids, she couldn’t help but squeal with delight.
“Oh, my gosh. That’s heaven on a plate,” she said, taking a huge bite out of her chicken club. The chicken was soft and juicy, and the bacon was crispy without being overcooked. With the cool crunch of the lettuce, the sweet tartness of the tomato, and the buttery avocado, she couldn’t have asked for a more perfect bite.
She proceeded to demolish her sandwich and didn’t come up for air until she’d finished the first half. Seth had already wolfed down his juicy bacon cheeseburger and sat munching on his fries. She picked up a steak fry and held it out to him. “Trade.”
He plucked a small handful of his shoestring fries and placed it on her plate. “Here you go.”
“Aww, Seth. You really know how to woo a girl.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him for his generosity. She should offer him more, but her steak fries were thicker than his skinny ones. Still, she placed two more fries on his plate.
“So french fries are what does it for you?”
“I’m a woman of many facets.” She stuck her nose up in the air. “Don’t try to figure me out.”
“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Seth grinned, all cocky confidence.
Tara hid her answering smile by starting on the second half of her sandwich. She tried to munch and swallow like she normally did, but Seth was staring at her with a quiet intensity that made her self-conscious. Should I take smaller bites so it doesn’t look like my cheeks are bursting? Nah. This was the gluttonous facet of Tara. Take it or leave it.
When they’d cleaned off their plates, they had a debate about whether or not he should carry her to the bathroom to wash her greasy hands. They came to a compromise. He brought her a hot wet towel to wipe her hands on. She felt like a pampered airline passenger in the first-class section.
“Please don’t tell me to lie down,” Tara said when Seth came to perch beside her on the bed. “I’m so full, I need the help of gravity to keep my food down.”
Chuckling softly, he piled two extra pillows underneath her foot. “Do you want to watch something?”
“Sure. What’s on?”
He handed her the remote. “You pick.”
She scrolled through the menu. Reruns, cartoons … ooh, Twilight. After all he’s done for me, I shouldn’t force that one on him. He would probably sit through it and pretend to enjoy it for her sake. He was just sweet like that. Oh, there was a Marvel Universe movie. Something they could both enjoy. Well, she really didn’t know what kind of movies Seth liked, but it was a safe bet.
“Does this one work?”
“Awesome.” He slid onto the other side of bed and rested his back against the headboard with his long legs stretched out.
It was surprisingly hard to concentrate on the blockbuster film. There was a good foot and a half of empty bed separating them, but Tara could swear she felt his heat against her skin. She snuck a peek at him to find him absorbed in the movie, so she gave herself permission to stare at him, reveling in his hotness.
“See anything you like?” he asked casually with his eyes still glued to the TV.
Dammit. He must have excellent peripheral vision. She had to think fast, and a question she’d been meaning to ask him popped into her head. “Did you always know you wanted to pursue photography?”
“No.” For a moment, she didn’t think he would continue, but he sighed and glanced at her. “Not until my junior year in college.”
“Oh? What did you major in before then?”
Another longish pause. “
Mixed-media art.”
He wasn’t being very forthcoming with his answers and she wondered if she should stop prying. But now she was dying to know what had caused him to change his path. She felt as if she was missing an essential part of his story, and this was it. What was making her confident, easygoing Seth falter?
“Why did you change majors?” she asked gently.
“I’m getting a beer. Do you want one?” Without waiting for her answer, he shot out of bed and strode to the minifridge. “I think they have a couple bottles from Mammoth Brewery.”
“Sure, I’ll have one of those. They make good beer.” Tara let him take his time with answering. But he acted as though the conversation was over and stood studying the fridge with great interest. It seemed hard for him to talk about. Maybe it wasn’t fair of her to expect him to open up to her without making herself vulnerable first.
“I changed my major in the middle of college, too,” she volunteered after taking a fortifying breath.
“You did?” That caught his interest and he hurried back to the bed with their beer. “What happened?”
She wasn’t sure if he was really that interested in her change of major or he was just happy he wouldn’t have to talk about himself. It was probably a bit of both. “When I went to college, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I just thought I wanted to get out of Weldon and I wasn’t the least bit interested in working at Weldon Brewery. I thought beer was gross in my teens.”
Seth laughed. “So what was your major initially?”
“My school had one of the best viticulture and enology programs, so I thought I’d give it a go.”
“This is getting better and better. You were studying to become a winemaker?”
“Yes, yes. The irony runs deep.” Tara smiled at Seth, who was much more relaxed than he was a few minutes ago. “But I realized pretty quickly that what I wanted to do was become a master sommelier, so I shifted the focus of my courses to follow that path. I loved it.”
“When did you realize that viticulture and enology wasn’t the right major for you?” He was sitting crossed-legged on his side of the bed facing her, eager to hear the rest of her story.
“My college boyfriend decided that for me,” she said quietly, nagging shame digging its claws into her. She’d let him decide for her.
“What?” he said in a measured voice.
“Jason said I was wasting my time because it was almost impossible for women to become master sommeliers. He implied I certainly wouldn’t be able to become one.” How dare he? she roared inside her head, still blindingly angry after all these years. Some of that anger was directed at herself for being too afraid to stand up to him. “He chastised me for not thinking of my immigrant parents, who worked so hard to give me a good life, and told me to choose a nice, stable career for them. He convinced me that graphic design was a fitting job for someone like me.”
“Tara,” Seth said, a wealth of empathy resonating in the single word.
“I was so much in love, and so damn young. I believed everything he said was because he loved me and wanted the best for me. I suddenly felt guilty about not thinking about my parents. I felt foolish for pursuing a pipe dream when I had them to think of.”
“God, Tara. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I know you loved him, but your ex was an arrogant, misogynistic asshole. He had no right to say any of that belittling shit to you. They were all lies.” He reached out and smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Never doubt that you’re a good person, and you can do whatever you set out to do.”
Emotion choked her, and the back of her eyes prickled with impending tears. “Well, my adventures in enology weren’t a complete waste. The lessons on body, scent, and flavor apply to beer as well. I think my background in wine has given me a leg up for brewing and aging beer to give it different nuances and layers.”
He seemed conflicted for a moment, as though he wanted to ask more about her relationship with Jason, but also to let her move on to safer topics. To her relief, he chose the latter. “I can see that. Your brews are amazing.”
“See. Everything in life has meaning. You just need to find out what it is.”
Seth muttered under his breath. She couldn’t quite catch it. Something about breaking someone’s jaw. She tucked her chin to hide her smile, appreciating his anger on her behalf. It was sweet.
She thought that a lot. That Seth was sweet. It happened so gradually that she had no idea how much her opinion of him had changed. She would never have thought that the cocky, superficial playboy could be so sweet. Maybe it was because he wasn’t who she’d thought he was. He was more. Her heart picked up speed, and her mind asked too many questions at once. No. She didn’t want to think about that.
He was looking at her with an inscrutable expression, and she decided she didn’t want to know what he was thinking either.
“So are you really going to be a Boy Scout and just sleep tonight?” she blurted.
“The last couple weeks of being near you but not having you was more than I can handle. I want you so much, I don’t think I could be gentle. I don’t want to risk hurting your ankle more.” The heat in his eyes and the rough regret in his voice shot straight to her vagina.
“You can’t say sexy things like that and not put out.” She flopped back onto her pillows and grabbed the front of her shirt, fanning herself briskly. “Why is it so fucking hot in here?”
Seth lay down next to her, chuckling low in his chest. The vibrations reverberated in her stomach, making all the butterflies take flight. He leaned in close and ran the back of his fingers down her bare leg. “Are you feeling frustrated?”
“Yes, dammit. I’m unbearably frustrated, and I want you to make love to me now.”
“May I suggest a compromise that we both will be happy with?” His clever hand traveled toward her inner thigh. “Let me elevate your leg for you.”
“It’s already elevated to high hell.” Then her eyes widened as Seth lifted her injured leg by her calf and methodically removed a pillow at a time. Her breath came in small puffs. “What are you doing?”
“Elevating your leg,” he cooed as he hiked her leg over his shoulder, crouching low near the bottom of the bed. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes,” she squeaked. “Very.”
He turned his head and kissed the inside of her thigh, one side then the next. He’d shaved his accidental beard, and she appreciated the smoothness of his cheeks. “I’m going to make you feel good now. Okay?”
“Okay.” Then she added, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His voice was a gruff rumble, and the heat of his breath licked at her center.
She let her head flop back onto her pillow, hot and cold at once. He was going to kill her. She was going to die. But, hey. There are worse ways to go.
* * *
Seth leaned back in the office chair and stared blankly at the ceiling. The lighting in the small office at the back of the restaurant was rather dim. Maybe he should’ve had some extra recessed lighting put in yesterday when the electricians were installing them in the dining hall. Nah. That probably would’ve been overkill. He should just let the interior decorator know the office needed a desk lamp.
As his brain prattled away, he realized how exhausted he was. He hadn’t slept in four days. In Mammoth, sleep proved elusive after watching Tara fall apart like a goddess against his mouth. And since they got back, it had been torturous not to see her while she rested her ankle at home. Three days of their disappearing time together was spent apart, and he felt the loss acutely. Maybe he should’ve snuck in through her bedroom window to see her. Ha! But he wanted to see her so desperately that he wasn’t above playing the role of a lovesick teenager.
Thankfully, she was finally back on her feet and working, but he was fast losing it. The temptation to snatch her and lock them in his bedroom for their last two weeks was growing stronger by the minute.
Not for the first time, he resented the time
stamp on their relationship. Was moving to Paris that important? Of course, it is. Stop letting your dick steer the ship. He’d worked hard for the opportunity and couldn’t give it up lightly. Besides, Tara had made it clear that she didn’t want anything lasting.
His eyebrows burrowed together at the thought, his anger surfacing again. That douchebag ex of hers must’ve done a number on her. Her luck with love and relationships wasn’t much better than his. He knew there had to be more to the story to have made her so insistent that he was a playboy and all they deserved were four dates. To have made her determined not to give him anything more than that. He didn’t like it.
Sure, he’d cultivated his playboy image and never dissuaded anyone from believing it. And hadn’t he been the one to suggest they have four dates? Yes, but he was damn sure she was keeping him at arm’s length for reasons of her own.
Whatever the case, he wanted to convince her otherwise. He didn’t care if he was contradicting himself. And he definitely wasn’t ready to analyze why he wanted more. But he wanted more of her than their half-joking dare and one-month expiration date. They only had two damn weeks left.
But all that mattered right now was that he had to see her. He didn’t have a third date planned yet, so he needed to come up with a good reason for another nondate. They’d made good progress on the website and it was nearly finished, so that wasn’t going to cut it.
He righted his chair and ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated in every sense of the word. This was getting ridiculous. He should just call her and ask her to come to the house for a sleepover. His cell phone vibrated just in time to save him from grabbing his keys to go barge into the brewery.
“Hey, Aria,” he said, his frustration dropping a few notches. It was always great to hear from her. “How are you?”
“Awesome as usual. How are you doing with the restaurant and housesitting gig?”
“It’s going a bit too smoothly. I’m getting a little bored over here,” he drawled.
Which was a complete lie. Being with Tara was far from boring. He had no idea why he said that. Maybe it was because Aria was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out romance. He had to keep his relationship with Tara a secret from her.